100 Stories for the Flame and Gunmetal
by Kasaidon
Summary: One-shots between the Colonel and the Lieutenant. Pre/Post/In-Between manga/anime storyline. Royai-centric
1. Chapter 1: A New Beginning

**A New Beginning**

* * *

He'd always imagined himself as an immensely confident individual who took on challenges with no hint of fear or hesitation. He had have lives held in the palms of his hands, moments where a single motion towards the wrong direction would affect the life of another permanently. A veteran that stood amongst the frontlines of many wars prior, he wasn't one that was easily swayed by negative emotions. He always knew what he had to do, and always, he would set out towards the target with confidence brimming to his chest.

But at this very moment, the feeling was different.

_There is no mountain too high._

He murmured those words under his breath, each getting heavier and heavier.

_What if I trip?_

The warm sensation grew from his chest and began to spread across his entire body. His heart though beating at the same pace, felt louder and harder with every beat, as if it wanted to escape the confines of his chest

The moment he stepped out of the balcony, the millions of citizens of the country would look up to him, every single soul of theirs would lie in his hands. It's no longer just the people in his team, his platoon, or amongst the soldiers in the military. It was the nation and its future.

A rough but small hand slipped into his from behind.

"You know you can do this."

He tightened his grip around her hand.

"No one else would be better for this."

The warmth that spread from his chest began to cool. Still looking ahead at the curtain separating him and the crowd on the balcony, he slowly straightened his back and puffed up his chest. He took a deep breath as he turned behind to the woman that was beside him for the longest time.

"I know," he smiled, acknowledging that it was often her that gives him strength.

Seeing him regain his composure, Riza gently removed her hand from his and held up the clipboard with his script. With a smirk, he pushed the clipboard away and took his steps towards the curtains, ready to face the nation and assume his new position.

On cue, the curtains opened, and together with the bright morning sun, the people on the balcony was met with the roars of crowd that echoed from the square adjacent the balcony.

"Good morning," he said with perfect charisma and confidence into the microphone, "my name is Roy Mustang, the elected Fuhrer of the free nation of Amestris."

The cheers of the crowd once echoed in support of a new beginning of their country.

* * *

As he went on with his speech, Riza quietly stood slightly behind him by his side where she always have been. She looked on to his silhouette, and as always, knew that he was the man she would follow and support for life.

"_I'd follow you to hell and back."_

* * *

A/N: A new 100 story challenge I hope to complete within the next few months. Look forward to at least 2 chapters a week!


	2. Chapter 2: The First Meeting

**The First Meeting  
**

* * *

The warmth of the Eastern morning sun felt almost unbearable under the layers of stiff, formal clothing draped around the figure of a fourteen-year old. Uncomfortably, he tried to loosen the tie around his neck with his right hand as his left held on tightly to the travel case carrying his only possessions. However tired he was from the overnight train journey all the way from Central, the young teen continued on the rocky, slightly overgrown pathway, away from the nearby township to his destination.

At the end of the lane was a house resided by a formerly renowned alchemist and his young daughter. Since the passing of his wife years ago, the alchemist withdrew from all social activities and quickly faded from the world of alchemy, leaving only shadows of the former glory his flame-based alchemical research.

In the following years, the little activity seen around the house or its inhabitants were of the blonde haired daughter of the alchemist, travelling to and fro to the town for school and errands. On several instances of activity, explosions or the smell of burnt wood would emanate from the house, its purpose seemingly solely to inform lurking scavengers to "piss off". The few times when travelling alchemists popped by, wishing an audience with the alchemist were not met with any success at all. Still, there were several occasions a year where the estranged alchemist would emerge to deliver his work as a small-time civilian alchemist. His meagre earnings supporting his daughter's education at one of the country's more distinguished institutions in the nearby town.

The derelict house soon came into sight after a final turn in the path. The teen hastened his footsteps along the walkway, however careful not to trip over the uneven tiles, approaching the decrepit estate. As he reached the doorstep of the house, he put down his suitcase and quickly adjusted his clothing, hoping to look as presentable as possible to whomever was going to appear at the door in a moments time.

The teen took a few deep breaths and put his clenched fist to the wooden door and gave it two hard and quick knocks. As he waited for a response, his tired eyes now lit with determination, wanting to accomplish the first step to his goal.

The tall wooden door slowly creaked open, revealing a young girl in a plain, yet quaint, faded blue dress, appearing not too much younger than the teen. He stared at the girl for a moment, taken away by her appearance. Her blonde hair and hazel eyes were so full of life that it very much contrasted the derelict building she had appeared from.

"How can I help you?" She said in a polite but serious tone, faintly annoyed by his silence in the past minute.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so early," he quickly replied, turning away in slight embarrassment, "I'm looking for Mister Berthold Hawkeye."

"And you are?" She quipped with a frown.

"Roy Mustang! I just arrived from Central!"

"I don't think that my Father is expecting anyone of that name," she remarked before moving to close the door.

With quick reflexes, Roy moved forward, his arm pushing against the wooden door and stopping it from closing. "I hope that Mister Hawkeye would be able to take me in as an apprentice!" He raised his volume slightly, not wishing to be turned away within a few minutes of his arrival.

The girl froze for a moment, either by his sudden movement or his loud declarement of his intentions. She then turned behind, as if there was someone approaching.

"Who is making such a ruckus so early in the morning?" A deep voice sounded from the interior of the house, accompanying the creaking of the wooden floorboards.

"There's a boy who wants to be your apprentice."

"Go back in, Riza."

The girl took a second look at the young teen at the door before retreating back into the interior of the house.

A middle-aged, lightly-browned haired man then took her place at the doorstep. From about two heads taller, he looked down at the well-dressed teen at the doorstep. His silent gestures though were much similar to his young daughter, were far more intimidating.

"Name?"

"Roy Mustang! Sir!"

"And you wish to be my apprentice?" Berthold Hawkeye questioned, sounding more like a scoff, in much scorn of the endeavors of the black haired boy whom looked right into his eyes.

"Yes Sir!" Roy replied, unfazed by the older man's questions. His, opal eyes looked into his future teacher's with as much determination as he had when he first decided to leave central. Rather than a disrespectful gesture, his gaze conveyed his determination for his pursuit.

The older man's eyes did not shift away, but rather looked on the teen more intensely, sensing no hint of waver from his gaze.

"I'm now nothing but a small-time civilian alchemist with nothing to my name." The older man said harshly, "you would be better off learning from those fancy dogs of the military."

"No Sir! I disagree!" Roy replied, making the older man curious about his next line. "I've read about your work, and it's truly amazing. There is nothing much alike it. But there is only so much I can learn from your few published work, so I hope to be able to learn from the man himself!"

The older man paused for a moment before replying, "why do you want to be an alchemist?"

"I want to become a pillar of strength and support to the people around me, supporting the people of Amestris with my strength and knowledge," Roy replied readily, again as if he had been repeating lines in front of a mirror.

"I'd think about it," the older man muttered, taking a step back and closing the door.

* * *

Berthold Hawkeye though appeared to be calm, was rather taken aback by the young teen's determination and naivety. These two traits had often worked hand in hand in bringing one towards remarkable success. The latter gave rise to unfathomable and seemingly unreachable dreams, and the former nulling the "unfathomable" and "unreachable", bringing the individual to places normal people could never reach.

* * *

While disappointed, Roy still held on with the hope that Berthold Hawkeye would once again emerge from the doorstep, accepting him as an apprentice. He picked up his suitcase and walked towards the stone bench at the porch facing the house and sat himself down.

* * *

After completing her schoolwork for the following week, Riza proceeded down from her room. She headed to the kitchen, wishing to prepare a quick meal for her Father and herself for dinner. Recalling her Father's reply to the boy in the morning, she took a detour towards the front door. Pulling the curtains aside, her eyes gazed across the porch before noticing the darkened silhouette of the boy sitting at the bench. His raven colored hair rustled as the wind blew by, his face locked in a frown as his eyes focused on the notebook he held in his hand.

* * *

Roy's thoughts were suddenly broken by the crisp sound of leaves as a small figure approached where he was sitting. He looked up and saw the girl from earlier with a bowl and spoon in her hands. He quickly stood up as she came closer.

"Are you hungry?" Riza asked, her hands still retracted.

"Well… I had some bread on the train this morning," he replied, looking down and realising that he had not had anything since.

"It's not much, but have some," Riza said as she held up the bowl of stew.

As Roy saw the pieces of meat and potatoes in the bowl of steaming gravy, he felt a strange feeling from his stomach.

_Growl_

A faint chuckle emanated from the previously cold and serious face. Trying to suppress her laughter, Riza pushed the bowl into the hands of the older boy, now with an embarrassed smile on his face.

"I'd come back later," she said before running back into the house.

As he watched her run back towards the door, a tinge of warmth from inside his chest quickly warmed his body up together with his hands, now cupping the bowl of stew.

_She's actually kind of cute._


	3. Chapter 3: Forbidden Moments

**A/N:** Life is a Tragedy. This is why we all love Shakespeare so much.

* * *

**Forbidden Moments**

* * *

It was an hour after official hours and as quickly as they came, the other soldiers in the room took off as soon as their work for the day was complete. The guards for the next shift took over their duties, ready to assume their posts for the evening. By 8PM, there were only two officers left in the main building of Eastern Headquarters.

The office was lit only at one end where the two officers were. One has eyes eyes focused on the papers before her and a pen in hand, while the other has simply put his head onto the desk, faced down and hands by his side, refusing to move.

"Colonel, admin will only give us till tomorrow morning for these documents if you still want them to do the processing, " Riza's voice echoed across the empty office upon realising her superior's lack of movement.

The Colonel's body was however still slumped over the mess of documents strewn over the large desk facing the rest of the room. A long, dreary groan erupted from the mess as he forced his body up from the desk, a piece of paper still stuck on his face.

"I'm a Colonel now, why do I still have to do all these work?" He grumbled, removing the piece of paper from his face, staring at it like a child looking at a piece of broccoli.

"Precisely the reason why you have to do so, Sir," Riza replied, eyes still stuck scanning the report on her desk, "your signature happens to be rather important. If these documents aren't signed, Central would be finding someone to fault."

The Colonel gave another dreary groan and put down the piece of paper. He looked across the room to the sight of the Lieutenant barely a few meters away. Noticing her hazel colored eyes staring so intently at her work, his frown quickly twisted to a gentle smile as he put his pen to the paper.

It was not until an hour to midnight when work was finally completed. All documents regarding the new recruits would be ready to be filed after the administrative department had gone through them again the the Morning. One of the busiest weeks of the year was finally coming to an end.

Grabbing the only two coats left of the rack by the door, Roy turned to the woman approaching his position. "Lieutenant, let me give you a lift, a lady like yourself shouldn't be alone on the streets at this hour."

"Any man would be a fool to try to sneak up behind me," Riza replied coldly to his remark, putting the military-issued coat over her shoulders.

"A fool indeed…" He repeated, holding the door open.

The streets were empty of all activity, its darkness only illuminated by the streetlights which shone like spotlights every few meters in the night devoid of the light of the moon. The silence both in the car and out was only broken by the faint purring of a cat across the corner.

In the car itself, exhaustion has since took over the overworked Lieutenant whose head leant towards the window. Every minute or two, the Colonel would gaze towards the seat beside his to make sure that his driving did not stir his tired passenger. Then when finally when they were at her apartment block, he simply quietly released his seatbelt, not wishing at all to disturb her.

Too tired to fight the temptation, Roy lifted up his hand to her face, sweeping a piece of stray hair aside. The sight before him was much unlike what he became used to seeing everyday- the cold, strict soldier, her eyes like a hawk's, always keen and focused. Now before him was a woman tired and defenceless. At that very moment, Roy felt like he would give up everything for it to stay as it was.

It was not for at least half an hour that Riza awoke. Her eyes opened only to see her commanding officer well settled in the driver's seat, looking up at the stars. Roy upon noticing her motion turned to her, smiling.

"Sorry Colonel," Riza quickly unbuckled her seatbelt, "why did you not wake me up?"

"I saw no reason to," Roy replied, pulling out his car keys and stepped out of the vehicle, "let me accompany you upstairs."

"There's no nee-"

"That's out of the question, Lieutenant."

As she stepped into the apartment, Riza turned to bid farewell to her commanding officer.

"Thank you Sir, if there's nothing else-"

Cutting her mid-sentence the second time that night, Roy stepped forward into the apartment, pushing the door shut behind him. His eyes gazed right into hers intently.

"Riza."

"Colonel, this is inappropriate," her sight did not turn away and her voice unwavering. A tinge of discomfort spread across her body at the mention of her name from his mouth. Since her assignment under his charge, rare was the occasion where he addressed her by her first name.

"I want you to quit."

Her discomfort quickly turned into confusion.

"If there's anything I've done wrong, I'm sure we could settle this in a more formal setting," Riza replied, still putting up an air of professionalism and formality.

"No."

"Then Sir, what is it?" Riza questioned, instantly wishing that she could have come up with another reply that would reverse this entire conversation.

"I want us to be together, Riza," Roy replied after a moment, "your very appointment under my charge was a torture as much as it was a pleasure."

"Sir!" Riza exclaimed.

"You work with the highest efficiency, you always keep us in check. You were always the one I could rely on the most. I could trust anything with you," Roy spewed as he took another step forward. "But do you know how much it pains me?"

Riza stood frozen, eyes still fixed at those of her commanding officer and childhood companion.

Grasping the uniform at his chest, Roy continued, "every day I see you working so hard for my sake and I can't do anything more than recommend a pay raise or a ride back home. Everytime I want to say something, or hold you tight, I am reminded that any sign of affection could equate to either of us jeopardising our careers. I can't even call you by your first name in public anymore!"

Faced with the torrent of words and feelings, Riza remained physically unresponsive. However, years of suppressed feelings began to well up to her throat, stopping her from making a sound. After a short moment which felt like a millennia, Riza brought her hands up to his, letting him release his grasp on his uniform. She held on to his hand tightly, shifting her gaze down to his hand, marked with scars from the flames which she gifted him.

"Colonel, do you think there is anyone more suitable for my job?" She questioned, gripping his hand even more tightly.

"No," he remarked, his sight upon the light, golden hair he used to tell her that he loved when they were younger.

"Do you know why I joined the army?" She questioned once more, her tone still soft and gentle.

Roy kept silent, knowing that it was probably because of her Grandfather, her only other bloodkin left, and maybe, just maybe, because of him.

"I wanted to protect the person I love," she continued, turning up to face the man before him. Her eyes looking into his with warmth and conviction. "If anything happened to him, I probably wouldn't be able to live anymore."

Knowing exactly whom she was referring to, Roy deftly pulled Riza into his arms, holding her in a tight embrace, his face burrowed in her hair, still scented of shampoo. Rather than resist, Riza returned the embrace, expressing a desire equaling to his.

"This is still unthinkable now, Colonel," she mumbled, face in his chest, yet stubbornly unwilling to address him by any other name. "If I leave now, what would the higher ups think of you?"

"Who cares about what they think?"

"What if they assign some bimbotic assistant that would do nothing else besides ratting off every of your actions to the superiors?" Riza said, both as a joke and a serious remark. "Besides, who would be there to take care of you when there's a field assignment on a rainy day?"

Roy let out a sad chuckle. He knew that there was no one else better to entrust his back to, or serve as his extended hand. In his bid to rise through the ranks to the top, he definitely needed Riza to be by his side at his command. His feelings were strong, and yet fraternisation was a punishable crime.

"I want to see you at the top, Colonel, everything else can come later."

Riza's words were absolute. Roy knew that any act against it would only disappoint her, and there is no crime worse.

"Can I at least ask for two things tonight?"

"Yes Sir?"

"First, let me stay here," Roy smirked, gently loosening his arms around her shoulders. "Second, don't call me Colonel."

After his words, Roy released Riza from his embrace, only to slide his arm to her waist, pulling her upwards, as he put his lips to hers in a long, forbidden motion.


	4. Chapter 4: Sight and Observation

**Sight and Observation**

* * *

As she walked through the door, one could see the light creases on her uniform, and at close look, the deeper folds at where her elbow bent when she reached back for the gun in her holster, always ready and prepared for what is to come. Glance carefully, and one would see her darkened sleeves, the little bit of gunpowder from her pre-breakfast range practice. Then up to her eyes, hazel and piercing, those that could spot another from many miles away, long before one would notice.

Look deeply, one could begin to see the sorrow she had behind those piercing hazel eyes, the ones that had seen too many a life taken away with the pull of her finger. Examine closely, and you'd see the how the gunpowder had spread in those thin layers; shots fired quickly, steady and precise, so that the enemy would never have a chance to come any closer. Observe carefully, and you'd see those light folds had been fixed from the long periods of wait, trigger by her finger, eyes straight in the scope, body not moving, watching, so that no one would ever be near.

Carefully, slowly, and only when she had enough trust, would she ever lower that facade of a woman who would never waver, never falter and never yield. Firm fingers ready to pull the trigger would relax, her arms would come down, and her eyes would soften. The lips that gave ever so rare a smile would curve upwards, the tense shoulders slacken.

If she had ever let you see and know that behind the facade, there was no need for speech nor acknowledgment, for her eyes would speak in the mouth's stead. A single look and you would know what she meant.

* * *

He was proud, but grateful. Not for the spark that he held in his hand, the power that he wielded that made too many an enemy yield. Not for the brightness in his head, the wit that allowed him to make his climb up the hierarchy. Not for the fire in his eyes, the vision that he held, looking to the top, imagining seeing the world revolutionize at his hands. He was proud and grateful for the one that gifted him the secrets to the flame he held at the tip of his fingers, the one that ensured that his overconfidence will not cost him more than he could lose, and the one that watched his back as he looked to the front, so that no one could put a blade through it.

There she was, the one who had trusted him the most, and the one he had trusted even more so.

"Colonel," the all too familiar voice called him from his seemingly thoughtless gaze. Roy sat up, startled by her call, realizing that she was long past the doorway. His eyes trailed towards the Lieutenant, noticing that piercing glare she had.

"Lieutenant, it is already getting late, are you not planning to leave?" asked Roy, seeing the orange that had shone through the glass windows.

"Colonel, had it slipped your mind that the General wanted to see you at six thirty?" Riza reminded, her tone nearly a sigh.

His eyes widened a little, raised eyebrows displaying his sudden realization. Roy let out a sigh of relief, eyes darting quickly to the clock, knowing now that there was still a little time. "What would I do without you?" he said, lips curving up so slightly as he watched Riza let out another sigh. Her lips curved up likewise, and her eyes softened.

"You'd be useless, Colonel," she said, causing the corners of his lips to turn downwards very quickly.

The way her eyes had looked towards him was nearly teasing, but her tone as cold as ever. Roy stood up from his seat, then took a few steps from his desk towards the doorway, stopping briefly as she moved a little to the side. His hand reached over to her shoulder, lightly touching her relaxed arm, then continued towards the door.

Hearing the sound of her boots behind his own, Roy said in almost a whisper, "I know. I'd be quite useless."

* * *

A/N:

My eyes are tired

My shoulder blades, sore and stiff

But I will still write.

I still am going to write. No promises its going to be frequent, but look forward to more Royai and more.


End file.
